Rose Time
by lizzyleefree
Summary: "What wonder human beings had for anything new, he marveled. He supposed that was one reason he hung around them. There were other reasons, but those he was more hesitant to think about." The Doctor watches Rose sleeps and thinks about many things.


The Doctor shifted very carefully, not wanting to awaken Rose. They had started out determined to sleep on opposite sides of the small bed, but soon they began talking and laughing about all the adventures they had and he found himself holding her hand, lightly feeling the back of it with his thumb. They laid facing each other inches away, and he watched her relive all of their memories, her lips moving fast and her eyes twinkling.

What wonder human beings had for anything new, he marveled. He supposed that was one reason he hung around them. There were other reasons, but those he was more hesitant to think about.

As the sky outside grew darker, and Rose's words grew sleepier, she looked up at the Doctor intently. He suddenly averted his eyes, aware of how he probably looked after gazing at her so long at such a close proximity. He liked being in a time period where the inns offered such small beds. He liked any excuse he had to be close to Rose, but he knew the significance humans tied to sharing a bed, and he knew that he should not be encouraging that thought process in Rose.

It would be unethical to encourage such a relationship, he thought. He would be toying with her. He could be her companion, and show her worlds beyond her imagination, but he could never be the kind of companion he really wanted to be. There were so many things he could never give to her as long as he was with her; safety, a family, a home- most humans wanted all those things eventually. They would think they might be able to travel the stars their entire short lives, but that eventually wore on them. That's the main reason he tried to act like he didn't notice or care whenever she would laugh at something Mickey the Idiot said.

"Doctor?" she asked softly.

"Yes?" he asked, looking back towards her.

"Sometimes I forget that you're not human, you know?"

His arms encircled her, and a bittersweet happiness flooded his human form, "Yes, I'd gathered that much."

"Sometimes I feel that I know you better than anyone, but other times, when I see that distant look in your eyes..." she blinked several times as if keeping back a tear or two, "I remember that you have hundreds of years of experiences that I don't even know about. And it makes me wonder if I don't really know you."

With anyone else the Doctor would have stopped the conversation long before now, but there was something about Rose he couldn't quite place; for whatever reason, he was more human around her.

"Are you saying you want a bedtime story, then?" he asked playfully, as he ran his hands through her soft hair.

She giggled, but then looked up at him a little sadly, "You don't have to. We do a pretty good job of living our own stories, don't we?"

He smiled, feeling a mixed sense of relief and of longing to tell her things- anything that would make him feel closer to her. His life had not exactly been a calming bedtime story, though. "Yes, I suppose you're right. You look like you're about to pass out, anyway. Let's just sleep and I'll think of a story to tell you as soon as we get out of the 1500's."

"I'm ok with that," she smiled up at him and brushed his cheek with a kiss. Within moments she was asleep on his chest, her arms circled around him, her breathing slow and deep.

The Doctor thought carefully about a story to tell her from when the Time Lords were still alive and thriving. What would she really relate to, though? What did she really understand of the mysteries and burdens of time? Of having children- and loosing them? Of loosing everyone and being the only one left fighting, and the only one left living? Of travelling alone potentially forever, saving so many people, but never being able to escape the guilt for those he couldn't save? Of killing, and killing, and killing, because it was the only way to save what was left, only to have it all be for nothing? He stiffened suddenly, looking down at the warm pink and yellow creature he held. Suddenly he felt like pushing away- like he was more alone with her than ever, because she would never understand.

She smiled in her sleep as her pupils moved rapidly under her eyelids and she nuzzled deeper into his chest. Even in her sleep, she thought of him so heroically. That was the other reason he hung around humans, the one he didn't like to admit. They were always getting themselves into such shenanigans, and he fed off the faith they placed in him. Rose seemed to think he would always save the day with just the right witty reply, act of valor, little gizmo or gadget, or nugget of obscure knowledge of alien life forms. She faced death almost weekly with him, but never seemed to bat an eye as long as she was with him. That was not the Doctor he saw, but her believing in him kept him striving for that, to cope with his failures in the past.

He winced as he thought about their relationship in such brutal honesty, and he was about to shove off the bed and sleep on the floor.

That's when Rose mumbled something in her sleep as she tossed, "We have each other, Doctor. That's all that matters."

He stared at her in amazement, "Even in your sleep you know just what to say."

Rose had never experienced the things he had long ago, but he realized that didn't mean she didn't understand. She understood them, because she understood him. Her powers of empathy were unparalleled. Most humans found it hard to even relate to other humans they didn't like, but Rose felt empathy even for the cold, hard Dalek- the first one they met together that she stopped the Doctor from killing cold when he was consumed with painful memories of the time war. Any being they met who was suffering, no matter how different from her, she immediately cared for.

That's why the Doctor believed in Rose, just as she believed in him. How many times had he put his life in the hands of this young, human girl? Maybe they both needed each other's faith to be more than what they were alone. Maybe it wasn't a horrible thing that the Doctor had come to need her faith in him.

As he thought, he gazed on her peaceful face. Her eyes had begun to water a little in the corners and black smudges were beginning to leak around her eyes. He grunted out a little chuckle. He never did get why she wore so much make up. It wasn't like she needed it. He found it a little cute when it got messed up for some reason. It wasn't as cute as when she laughed so hard that she stumbled, or when she gave him that mischievous grin when he did something a little foolish (which still happened a disconcerting amount after 900 years of life).

He hugged her closer, and thought about what a good Time Lord she would make. What wouldn't he give to just travel forever with her, shedding their old forms when they died and living anew? He could make himself human if he really needed to (although he wouldn't be the same person), but there was no way to make a human a Time Lord. He had poured himself into research about it long ago, but he got no where. Mortal bodies would not be able to take the transformation, if they had not already survived it before, which the only way they could have done that is if they had already been a Time Lord before.

The Doctor faced a ridiculous amount of allegedly impossible things, but he was as sure as he ever got that turning a human into a Time Lord was legitimately impossible.

He just had to enjoy Rose why he had her with him. That was all he could do.

"Doctor! I just had a dream!" shouted Rose as she bolted up. She was suddenly in a flowing white organza dress, and she looked like she was subtly glowing.

"Well, dreams happen, Rose. And when did you change into that?"

"No, it wasn't just any dream!" she said frantically. "Listen Doctor, the heart of the TARDIS came into my mind! You communicated your subconscious wishes for me to be immortal and it said all I needed was a kiss of true love from a Time Lord to change into one."

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows on thought, feeling that something was off, but was a little distracted when Rose climbed up to meet her eyes with his. Her round, pink lips were slightly parted as she whispered, "You're able to give that to me, Doctor, aren't you? A kiss of true love?"

The Doctor sighed heavily and shoved his hands in his pockets, "Oh, I could give you so much more than that- if I felt like it wouldn't just hurt you in the end."

"Isn't it worth a shot, Doctor? For me to be like you?"

"It might be, if this were real. It's not, though. This is a dream."

"How can you really know that?" said Rose indignantly, "We've seen stranger things in real life!"

"Because this is not a Disney Princess movie and ones molecular code can not be rewritten by snogging. And also, I swear you were not wearing that dress before! Although it is rather fetching..."

Rose placed two of her fingers over his lips, "Well, if you refuse to believe it's real for now, then how about we just pretend for a little bit? You never have kissed me properly."

The Doctor consented with a shrug. They had kissed twice; the first time the Doctor was sucking lethal TARDIS energy out of her, and the second Rose's mind was being possessed by a very lusty Cassandra. For both of them, Rose was not even mentally present, although the Doctor was- painfully so. If this really was a dream, though, he could kiss her all he wanted without consequence, and he would at least finally have a memory in his mind of her remembering it.

He cupped her face carefully and pulled her face to his. Just as their lips brushed, though, he was jerked back to reality by a slight pain on the left side of his face.

His eyes snapped open and he saw a girl lying on the bed a few inches away from him. She was pretty, and she was nice, but she wasn't Rose. He rubbed his face and realized she must have elbowed him when she turned over. He took a few seconds to get his bearings. He was in the bed with Martha, and they were at an inn in 1599. He turned bitterly away from her, and tried to get back to that moment with Rose, but it was gone. That night had been real at one time- they had stayed up talking at an inn on a relatively uneventful trip they took to the 1500s. They were trying to find King Arthur but missed him by some years. It had all been so vividly real again in the dream, but she had never woken up in a flowing dress talking of "True Love's Kiss," or any of that nonsense in the real version. They had just fallen asleep together peacefully.

How strange, he thought, for that to be the memory he relived with her- so _domestic. _Now he lay in an inn that looked almost exactly the same with Martha. Why did he do this to himself?

He never had kissed her properly, or even told her he loved her in the end, although every fiber of his being screeched at him to. Then she was gone, trapped in that other world forever. What a coward I was, he thought, not just hurrying up and saying it.

He got up carefully so that Martha would not wake up, and wandered over to the corner of the room where their bags were. In a hidden pocket, he pulled out Rose's purple shirt- the one she had worn the most recently. She had just thrown it to the side, like she would be back any moment for it. He burried his face in it and inhaled her scent, ignoring the tears that burned his eyes.

Balling up the shirt like a pillow, he curled up on the floor, his tall, slight form rising and falling gently as he drifted off to sleep. He kept telling himself that perhaps it was possible to get back to her. After all, he thought the first two times they encountered that universe would have been impossible. Each time would be more and more unlikely than the next. It was astonishing that out of the billions of parallel worlds, they encountered the same one twice, completely accidentally. Even if he could find a way back, who knows how many years would pass for Rose before he did? Would she be married with children, old and alone, dead?

The Doctor shook his head, refusing to think of it any longer. His sleep became restless and tossing on the floor, but he had no more pleasant dreams last night.

A/N: I wrote this to be able to work as a one-shot, or with a continuation. I am not really able to commit at this time to a long fanfic, but I really wanted to write this one to explore the Doctor and Rose's dynamic, and to try and work out what it must be like to be in the Doctor's head and see some of that inner conflict that he keeps so well guarded. Anyways, sorry it tuned out a little sad, but all the same I hope you guys enjoyed it! Reviews and feedback are appreciated!


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